The Dark Ascension Apprentice
by talykashykun
Summary: Zro-Don, an orphaned Kel Dor child, strong in the force, has been raised by none other than a devious Sith Master. Raised to believe that the Sith Code was the true way of the Force and the Jedi Order as "False Jedi" he is sent out by his Dark Master to complete his ascension into Sith-hood.
1. Chapter 1

_Peace is a lie, there is only passion..._

The words raced through Zro-Don's head, his breath a visible cloud of air that puffed from his Kel Dorian breathing mask.

_Through passion, I gain strength..._

His fingers coursed with the force, which shot from his talon-covered fingertips all the way up his arms and to his back. Another visible exhale seethed from his mask.

_Through strength, I gain power..._

The lights around him dimmed as if the energy had been sucked from the room like a vacuum. The tips of his taloned fingers began to glow with a white energy.

_Through power, I gain victory..._

Zro-Don's crimson skin grew feverishly hot, dripping with sweat that seemed to vaporize as soon as the drops fell from him.

_Through victory, my chains are broken...The Force shall free me!_

He opened his eyes and the lights in the room sprang slowly back to life, his eyes adjusting through his mask. Typically the Kel Dor wore specialized goggles over their eyes and a breather over their mouth, but his was modified to be one full piece, and painted a matte black to match his dark robes and clothing. Even the temperature in the room regulated back to normal after his meditation was complete, the room reaching a nice coldness that felt good against his still hot skin.

"Excellent, my young apprentice," Oozed a voice from the corner of the room. A dark figure slowly approaching the young Kel Dor. "Your strength in the Force grows with each day."

"Thank you Master Drakus," Zro-Don bowed humbly, "I hope the student reflects the teacher." He stood straight and looked up to his Master, "I am ready for my trials."

For the past ten years Zro-Don had been training under Darth Drakus in the ways of the Force. From his youth he displayed an even greater natural affinity to the Force than any of his peers, his eyes, when not shielded by his mask, were actually a mercurial silver color, a symbol of strength in the Force. He had lost his family at the age of five, according to Drakus, his family was murdered by raiders, and he had saved the child from a terrible fate by arriving and cutting the brigands down. Zro-Don could not remember much, but he did remember a sudden explosion rocking the space craft his family was traveling to Coruscant in, but the only memory he had after that was waking up in Drakus' ship, asking where his family was. Drakus told him that he was a great Jedi Master, and he would train him in the ways of the Force, and coupled with the contempt from being stripped of his family, he promised to harness that rage into a power second to no one. The power of the Sith.

"You have been a good apprentice my young Zro-Don," Drakus put a heavy hand on Zro-Don's shoulder. "And your trials will test the very core of my Sith teachings within you." Honey was practically dripping from his voice at this point. "You shall usher a new age for the Sith, your Kel Dor blood, fueled by the rage in your heart, shall bring the false Jedi to their knees, and you will be a Hero of the Republic, not only a hero but your word will also be Law." He motioned to a datapad lying on the table.

"That datapad contains the details of your mission, I must go now, contact me once you are done and we shall proceed to the next phase of your ascension." Drakus curtly nodded to his apprentice and marched from the room, the sliding door making a hushed _whooshing_ sound as it closed behind him.

Zro-Don walked over to the datapad and picked it up, the first file he opened contained only a single line which caused him to grip the hilt of his lightsaber tightly. It read:

"**SLAY A FALSE JEDI**"


	2. Chapter 2

The words glared at Zro-Don in the quiet room, so simple a command, yet his mind was wracked with questions. He scoured the files on the datapad for any further direction, but only found the instructions to contact Drakus after and only after his mission had been completed.

_Where and how will I find a false Jedi? _Zro-Don thought to himself, while pacing back and forth in the room.

After a few minutes of thinking, he gathered his travel gear; a backpack with some field rations, a water canteen, and some camping equipment. He slung his liquid cable launcher onto his belt, and slipped the datapad into one of the more secure pouches. He then holstered his lightsaber onto his belt as well. He finally shouldered his backpack and walked out into the hall.

Drakus had a nice facility on Coruscant, deep in the bowels of the Underworld, hidden away from the prying eyes of others. The Underworld consumed the meek, honed the strong. Zro-Don stepped out into the dark streets, rain falling like freezing needles against his face. He drew his hood over himself and started to walk to where he could find a lift to the higher surface. Coruscant was home to the Jedi Temple, a temple of blasphemy and apathy according to Drakus.

No sooner than he was around the corner, two dark figures blocked his way. One, a tall Trandoshan, his reptilian eyes gleamed with malice as he ground his fist into his palm, cracking knuckles. The other was a Rodian, whose bulbous black eyes shone with the same mal intent as his partner, his hand resting on an illegal heavy blaster pistol on his thigh.

"Look what we got here Jig," Hissed the Trandoshan, "A tiny morsel whose lost his way."

The Rodian laughed, his snout shuffling up and down, "How about you hand us your backpack over to us, before Thrash here rips your skull open." He said in Rodese.

Zro-Don, though tall and powerfully built for his age, stood at least a head shorter than the Trandoshan, but the Rodian was about his height. He kept both in his gaze as he held up his hands non-threateningly.

"You don't want to fight me…" He said in basic, the words slithering out of him.

"Oh! You hear that Jig? We should be afraid of this whelp." Thrash laughed as he turned back to snarl at the young Sith, his upper lip curling to reveal his fangs. "Well let's see how tough you are then." And Thrash threw a wild punch at Zro-Don.

The young Sith, expecting the underhanded swing, ducked the punch and countered with his own into the exposed stomach of the thug. One. Two. Three quick jabs into the ribs doubled over the Trandoshan with an _Oomph! _and he turned to kick out at the shocked Rodian, which sent him wind milling backwards. Thrash quickly recovered, his neck muscles bulged with anger as he swung again at the young warrior. Zro-Don dodged, blocked, then found an opening to counter with a driving right cross into the Trandoshan' s chin, hearing a loud _Crack!_ as he felt Thrash's jawbone shatter, sending the thug reeling backwards until he collapsed in a heap.

A blaster bolt pinged by Zro-Don's fist. The trembling Rodian, not expecting to be fighting a trained warrior, shakily aimed his pistol at the young Sith.

"D-don't m-move!" He stammered in his native tongue, "I'll d-drill a hole into your head with th-this!" He threatened, emphasizing his intent by thrusting the pistol forward.

Zro-Don took no time in deciding his next move. From his fingertips erupted an amber lightning bolt that streaked across and struck the Rodian square in the chest, the cackling yellow bolts of electricity lit the Rodian up like a street sign. The blaster melted into Jig's hand and after a few more moments Zro-Don stopped channeling the Force Lightning and let Jig's smoking carcass slump onto the street.

"Justice served…" Zro-Don whispered as he continued down the street, turning his back upon the gruesome scene he left behind.


	3. Chapter 3

Zro-Don was finally able to make his way to the lift to take him to the upper levels. The tubular lift blew warm air over him to dry out his rain-soaked clothes while he waited to reach his destination. When the lift came to a hissing stop, the doors opened and it was as if Zro-Don stepped into a new world. The Underworld was so far beneath the main city, it was a constant den of nighttime darkness. The artificial environment lights were in disrepair and seldom worked, and when they did come on, they just added to the gloominess. The main source of illumination came from the street signs for bars and clubs, and the occasional street sign. Even the atmosphere was different, since being so far below the main levels the weather difference was drastic compared to the main city. Zro-Don stepped out into a bright sunny day. His eyes took a long moment to adjust, as the filters in his mask tried to compensate for the brightness.

It did not take him long to adjust to his new environment, but as soon as he stepped out he was approached by a Cerean in a nice suit.

"Sir Klo Gun of the Temple?" He asked, holding a holo-sign with the words 'Klo Gun, Jedi Temple.'

Seeing a good opportunity to find a way to the temple easily he jumped on the opportunity.

"Yes, I am Klo Gun of the Jedi Temple, please let us make haste." He motioned for the driver to lead the way.

The driver wasted no time into showing him to the air speeder, a dingy beat up taxi that has seen better years. But Zro-Don did not complain because the ride was free, and he found a way to infiltrate the temple without arousing suspicion. He sat down and quietly waited as the driver got into his seat in the front. Immediately afterwards Zro-Don sensed something was wrong after the driver raised the privacy glass and the doors locked with a loud _click_. He smelled something strange in the air as his vision began to blur out. He fumbled for his lightsaber when the filtration unit on his mask couldn't handle any more of the gas and he collapsed in a heap on the floorboard.

Zro-Don woke up sometime later in a holding cell of some kind. He wasn't bound but his backpack was missing, along with his lightsaber and his cable launcher, and his dark robes. He stretched out painfully; he must have been knocked out for at least half a day since his muscles were so sore. After a few minutes he heard a slot open at the room door, and a tray was pushed through.

"Meal time!" A gruff voice barked out as a tray with a gray, gelatinous goop slid toward him.

Zro-Don eyed the food with distrust, and chose with his better judgment not to eat the gel and to just let it sit by the door. After a while he heard to loud raps at the door,

"Back it up, prisoner, you have a visitor," Growled the same voice from before.

Zro-Don backed up to the far wall, determined to use the Force to escape, when he realized for some reason he could not focus on it. To him it felt like he was trying to grab water, just falling through his grasping fingers. Quickly deciding not to panic he just sat down on his bunk and quietly weighed his options. He could either try to muscle his way out, or just figure out his captor's angle and wait for the opportune moment. He decided on the latter as a large Quarren walked into the room. His leathery skin shone a pale pink hue in the roomlight, and his face tentacles writhed slowly around his two-fanged mouth.

"So, Klo Gun, Jedi Knight, my prisoner," He sneered at the Sith warrior, "My little bargaining chip." He drew up a chair to sit across from him.

Zro-Don stayed silent, quietly trying to muster up the force to do some kind of attack or even try to persuade the Quarren to release him to no avail.

"The Force-Jedi stuff you guys do won't work here, if that's what you're thinking," He pointed to a vent above them, "Nerve gas, blocks out that Force stuff you guys use; very useful for keeping such a high-value target like yourself in check."

"So what do you think to gain out of this…." Zro-Don gave him a flat tone, not giving him a single emotion.

"Oh so the Jedi can talk!" exclaimed the Qurren, squinting his beady eyes at Zro-Don as if to get a better look at him. "You're going to be worth a lot of money to us real soo-" He never got to finish his sentence as an explosion rocked the building and alarms began to sound.

Guards scrambled down the halls as the Quarren ordered two men to stand guard by the door as he turned with his blaster drawn pointing at the door as well. Zro-Don took this opportunity to strike, grabbing from behind, and pointing his arm at the other two guards as the Quarren panic fired his blaster pistol, taking them out as the Quarren was able to flip Zro-Don over his shoulder onto the steel floor. The blaster skittered across the floor as the Quarren raised a massive boot to stomp Zro-Don's head in. He twisted right and barely dodged the boot as he kicked out, causing the Quarren to back up to avoid getting hit in the face, and allowing Zro-Don to get up.

"So Jedi are trained in more ways than waving a stick around eh?" The Quarren took a defensive stance, inching closer to Zro-Don, "Well let's see how good you are then!"

He jabbed high then came around with a wide swing which glanced Zro-Don's brow, cutting into his forehead. He took a step back, he was insanely strong and Zro-Don didn't have the Force to guide him this time. The Quarren came in with another one-two combo, but Zro-Don was ready for this one, instead of backing away, Zro-Don came in and blocked the left jab with his right then came up with an uppercut with his left, staggering back the Quarren, taking his advantage, he jumped up and double-foot kicked out at the Quarren, but his opponent was no common thug, he caught the young Sith's legs and threw him aside like a sack of flour. Zro-Don barely had time to recover when the lumbering Jailor leaped upon him like a wild sabrecat. Zro-Don took a guard position on the ground with his legs up and kicked out to give himself some space. As soon as the Quarren back up a couple of feet, Zro-Don got up to his feet again, trying to quickly scan the room for something to help him.

The Quarren charged like a bull but was knocked back by a powerful kick to his side. A man had charged into the room, followed by a younger human male Zro-Don's age, wielding green lightsabers. The older one took a defensive stance in front of Zro-Don and announced,

"I am Jedi Master Jul-tor Kin, surrender yourself for your crimes!" He stepped forward, his weapon lowered.

"Never!" Roared the Quarren as he threw a flash grenade, blinding the three warriors, and when the ringing in their ears subsided and their senses came to, he was gone.

The two Jedi turned to Zro-Don and Jul-tor held out a hand,

"I am Jul-tor Kin, as you probably heard, and this is my apprentice, Xavier Nolin." Zro-Don took the hand and stood up, although letting out a pained breath. "We know you are not sir Klo Gun, you are much too young, but we have recovered your things, and are you a Jedi?" He said handing Zro-Don his effects back.

Zro-Don studied the two cautiously, not wanting to take on two Jedi while injured and still under some of the effects of the nerve gas, he decided to play along.

"Zro-Don, was on my way to the temple when I guess these guys mistook me for some other Kel Dor Jedi…." He said wincing, calling himself a Jedi, even under a guise felt like blasphemy.

"Well let's get you to the temple to treat your injuries." Jul-tor supported Zro-Don with a shoulder and proceeded to walk him out of the building.

On the way out the three were silent as Zro-Don thought to himself how much closer he was to ascension, once he was healed up, by his enemies nonetheless, he would challenge the Jedi and bring about their end.


	4. Chapter 4

The three sat in uncomfortable silence for many minutes in the Jedi airspeeder as they made their way to the Temple. Zro-Don was finally able to focus the Force onto his wounds, easing the pains in his bruised ribs, lightly massaging his side with his palm. Jul-tor finally broke the silence after what seemed like an eternity.

"Forgive me if I seem frank but who is your Master? I don't seem to remember your face or name at the Temple." He turned to face him, "but you do have an uncanny resemblance to Klo Gun, are you two related?"

"Quite possibly" Zro-Don rasped out, "I do not know much about my family, and when it comes to my status as an apprentice..." He paused, feigning a ragged breath to give him a moment to think of a good lie, "My lightsaber was an inheritance, a family treasure that was left to me when they were killed by bandits," He feigned another ragged breath, "I have Force capabilities, just wanted to request training."

"That's terrible!" Xavier exclaimed, his eyes wide from bewilderment, "How did you raise yourself?

"Let us not delve too deep if the lad is not ready," Jul-tor interjected sternly.

"It is quite alright," Zro-Don remarked, "I used my wits and strength of will to live Xavier." He turned to the window, "Sorry to cut my story short but we are here."

Jul-tor nodded as the speeder hummed to a stop, and the door swung open slowly. A team of medical Jedi were waiting on hand for them as one led Zro-Don to a chair and they ran him to the infirmary. The drugs promptly knocked Zro-Don out, and the last thing he remembered was a calm figure standing over him muttering words he couldn't quite make out.

Zro-Don woke up in a daze, he tired to see what time it was, and hit the chronometer on the desk.

_Its been a couple days, must have been more injured than I thought._ He slid off the bed and found his things hanging off the wall.

He quickly got dressed, his lightsaber and gear were all accounted for. _At least they're not thieves. _He thought as he stepped into the hall, almost slamming into a larger Kel Dor female.

"Zro-Don I presume?" He voice was icy, yet serene at the same time. "Are you doing well son?"

"Err, yes ma'am," He bowed reluctantly. "Thank you for the medical attention, I shan't be in your way long." He said in Keldoran.

"Follow me young one." She said, motioning down the hall. "From what I hear, your tale is a complicated one. Orphaned and left with naught but a lightsaber, may I see your eyes?" Again her voice chilled the bone.

Zro-Don complied and took off his mask, his eyes were momentarily blinded from having the filters removed, and he held his breath. His silver irises sparkled out in the bright hallway light.

"Silver eyes, the mark of the force..." She remarked, almost amused. "I'm sorry, I have not introduced myself, I am Grandmaster Pym-Mal."

Zro-Don quickly donned his mask again to breath and unblind himself.

"It is truly an honor above me." He said, nodding in reverence.

"Do not worry about such formalities." She said putting a taloned hand on his shoulder. "Your demeanor shows that you are not untrained, the council would like to have a word with you." She turned to a door and it opened with a room full of elder Jedi sitting in a circle.

Zro-Don's heart beat with anticipation. He could feel the Force surging throughout the room, it almost was palpable. He walked in, following Pym-Mal and she took her seat at the center. All eyes seemed to be focused on him, almost as if searching through his soul. He focused on the Force to calm himself, to hide his nature for being there, when a tall human next to Pym-Mal spoke up.

"He is of Dark Side." He said flatly.


End file.
